let me be your remedy
by Kira Pheonix
Summary: Set after 6x14- Mannequin 3. Sam needs to be reminded of his place in Dean's life and Dean's more than happy to knock some sense into his little brother's head. Angsty!Sam and Bigbrother!Dean.


Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the boys…no matter how much I wish I do.

Summary: Sam needs to be reminded of his place in Dean's life and Dean is more than happy to knock some sense into his little brother's head.

_Italics ; _thoughts

* * *

He can't sleep. He'd tossed and turned in his bed, tried counting sheep but his brain just won't settle and his eyes just won't close long enough for sleep to come.

Which is why he finds himself in Bobby's kitchen at two in the morning.

Sam plays with the label on his beer bottle, eyes fixing downwards on the kitchen table. He's been sitting there for God knows how long and all around him, there's only silence.

It's quiet, peaceful almost and Sam knows he should be grateful considering how crazy and hectic the past couple of weeks have been. But the quiet means that the voices in his head rise in volume. The quiet means that he's left on his own with nothing to distract him from his thoughts.

He'd seen Dean's face when he was talking about Lisa and Ben, seen the sadness and hurt, the _regret_. Of course, Dean being _Dean_, tried to cover it all up with gruffness and sarcasm and all that macho crap that seems to fool everyone.

Well, everyone but Sam. He may have been a gone for the past year, but he still knows his brother all too well. He knows his brother is hurting.

At first, a part of Sam regretted pushing his brother into going to Lisa's, seeing as how not so well the visit had turned out. The other part of him, the selfish little brother in him couldn't help but feel smug because Dean had come back to _him_. And from the way Dean closes up whenever Lisa or Ben is mentioned, he's not going back anytime soon.

Still, that small burst of victory quickly died away when he saw how affected Dean was from having to leave his one chance at normal, his one chance at happiness. Now Sam just feels awful.

And empty.

Because of course Dean would be affected, of course he's hurting and sad and regretful.

Why wouldn't he be?

Instead of having home cooked meals and a warm bed to slip into every night, he's stuck here with his brother who set the devil free and went to hell only to return without a soul at which he then spent the following year as a soulless dick bag, or so Dean says.

Instead of stability and _safe_, he has to settle with danger and douche bag angels and dolls that come to life and everything that comes with being a hunter, a Winchester.

Instead of Lisa and Ben, Dean has Sam and Bobby.

And Sam knows that that's not exactly jackpot.

He sighs, taking a swig of his beer.

"I suck." he says to the beer bottle in his hand, staring at it long and hard, as if it could magically solve his problems.

"Uh, Sammy, I don't think that the bottle's gonna talk back, because it's, you know, a _bottle_."

* * *

From where he's standing, Dean has to suppress a grin at the way his brother jumps at the sound of his voice.

"Shit, Dean, you scared the crap out of me!"

Ignoring Sam's glare, he crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "You're the one talking to a bottle at," he glances at the clock on the wall. "two thirty in the freaking morning. You ever heard of something called sleep?"

Sam just shrugs. "I slept. I just woke up." He looks down at his bottle.

Dean takes in his brother's form, the way his shoulders slump, the dark circles under his eyes.

"Uh huh, I'm gonna pretend I believe you." He says dryly, letting the lie slide. He steps into the kitchen and slides into the chair next to Sam's.

Before he could ask, Sam wordlessly passes his bottle to Dean. Even as he rises the bottle to his lips, Dean can't help the sudden burst of warmth in his chest. This is what's been missing, the way they communicate without words, because they didn't need it. They know each other. It comes as easy as breathing.

Sometimes Dean can't believe how much of an idiot he can be. He should have known from the start that there was something wrong with Sam when he first showed up. It's been right in front of him the whole time. Soulless Sam was just _so_ different from _his _Sam. The broody, miserable, silent giant beside him is proof of that.

_Broody._

Damn, but he missed Sam brooding, which Dean will be the first to admit is not something he thought possible. He remembered how annoying it was, having to figure out the right words to get his brother talking so that he doesn't wallow in whatever it was he's thinking about because having broody Sam in the car for more than two days can be a _bitch._

Now though, he's almost giddy with relief. Because broody Sammy also means big brother Dean comes out to play.

And God, but of all the things he misses, he misses being Sam's big brother the most. And sure, it's been over a year but he doesn't think he's too rusty yet. He doesn't think he's lost his mojo yet.

_Only one way to find out._

Dean places the bottle back on the table. "So..," he says, tapping the table with his fingers, voice casual. "You ok?"

Sam looks at him, amused. "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You sure? No trip down memory lane? None..," he gestures at Sam's head, one hand making random circular motions. "of that?"

Sam rolls his eyes. Okay, make that three things Dean misses. "No scratching the wall, I promise."

"So why are you up?"

"I wanted a beer."

"At two thirty in the morning?"

"There's nothing wrong with wanting beer at two thirty in the morning." Sam defends, voice tinged with annoyance.

Dean raises his hand in surrender. "Never said it was wrong, man. Here, drink your beer," he pushes the beer to Sam. "Take your time. I'm just gonna sit here and relax." He makes a show of making himself comfortable, slouching languidly as his brother watches him suspiciously.

He's making it clear that he's not going anywhere. Dean closes his eyes.

"I'm sure the bed's more comfortable."

Dean sighs lazily. "Nah, I'm good."

This time Sam's the one who sighs. "I know what you're doing, Dean. I'm fine. Really."

_Yeah, sure._

"I have no idea what you're talking about. I love this chair. I love Bobby's kitchen. I always come here at two thirty in the morning. It's a new hobby of mine. " he says innocently, eyes still closed. He doesn't need to open his eyes to see the glare Sam's pointing at him, bitch face firmly in place.

"Seriously, Dean, why are you up? Go back to bed."

Dean cracks open an eye and turns his head slightly to face Sam.

"Dude, people in _Antarctica_ can feel all the angst you're channeling out. Someone should save them from the torture. I don't think Bobby's gonna appreciate being woken up from his beauty sleep 'cause, well, he's not as awesome as I am. So I figured I might as well volunteer for the job." he says. He's definitely not going to reveal that he had woken up to pee when he noticed that Sam wasn't in bed, panicking immediately before setting off the find him, heart hammering in his chest.

Another eye roll. "How noble of you." Sam snorts.

"Oh no, I'm charging you. You owe me, Sammy. I want pie, a big-ass pie. Apple. Though, I'm okay with cherry. Mmmmmm…." Dean closes his eyes again, licking his lips.

"You're disgusting." Sam says, wrinkling his nose. "And for the last time, I'm _fine_."

"That you're final answer?"

"_Yes_."

"Fine."

"Fine."

There's a pause. Dean still has his eyes closed, but he can feel his brother fidgeting. A few minutes or so passes before Sam speaks again.

"You're not gonna leave me alone are you?" He sounds resigned.

"Nope." Dean says cheerfully.

Another pause, this one longer.

Silently, Dean counts in his head. _Five…four… three… two…one…_

"I just…"

Yup, he's still got it.

* * *

Sam doesn't know what he's thinking. He can't believe he's actually trying to talk about this. But Dean's not leaving him alone and Sam starting to drown in his thoughts and he needs _something_.

He just doesn't know what it is he needs, what it is he wants. Does he want Dean to tell Sam that he's going to be okay? Does he want Dean to tell him not to worry because he's not ever gonna go back to Lisa? Does he want Dean to throw their stuff in the Impala and just drive until they find another hunt?

Sam _doesn't_ know. And don't get him wrong, he knows that he's screwed up in the head, he just didn't realize _how_ screwed up he is. He rubs his eyes with his hands before dropping them onto his lap. He takes a deep breath before slowly exhaling.

"I …" he trails off, biting his lips.

Dean's eyes slowly open before locking on to Sam. Steady, calm, non-judging. He says nothing, apparently content in letting Sam have his say.

And all of a sudden Sam's _pissed_ and he doesn't know why but if anyone has the right to judge him right now, it's Dean, especially after everything Sam's put him through. If anyone has the right to bail, it's Dean and Sam can't even blame him. Hell, if he was Dean, he'd leave. And yet, Dean's _still_ here, looking at Sam straight in the eyes, like the past year didn't happen, like Sam hasn't once again screwed up, like he actually wants to be here even though Sam's pretty sure he'd prefer to be somewhere else but he _can't_ because he feels responsible for Sam and Sam needs him no matter how much he denies it and-

_God_, he doesn't deserve Dean.

As quickly as the anger comes, it fades away; leaving him feeling drained and washed out.

Now all he wants to do is go upstairs, bury himself in his bed like the coward he is and not ever come down again. But he can't because Dean is still waiting for him to speak; _he's still waiting for Sam, _even after everything and Sam can't just leave him hanging like that, Dean doesn't deserve that.

"Sam?"

He raises his head to find Dean staring at him expectantly, _still waiting_.

He doesn't know what to say. He doesn't know how to explain. He doesn't even know _what_ he's supposed to explain.

So he blurts out the first thing that comes to his mind.

"It's okay if you wanna go. I won't get mad, I promise." Sam's eyes widen. Both of Dean's eyebrows rise.

"Uh….okay….go where exactly?" Dean says slowly. Sam just shakes his head. Dean's eyes narrows sharply.

"_Sam_." he warns, gently but firmly, command clear in his voice. Shit. That's Dean's 'don't-piss-me-off-because-you-won't-like-it-when-I'm-pissed' voice. And he really doesn't want Dean angry at him right now.

Suddenly, it dawns to him. It's so clear. He knows what he has to do.

"Lisa." he answers softly, ignoring the way his chest suddenly tightens.

"What about Lisa?" Dean sounds confused now.

Sam clears his throat. "It's okay if you wanna go back to Lisa." he tries again.

"I just got back from Lisa's." Dean says, looking at Sam like he's crazy. Sam can just barely stop himself from groaning out loud and rolling his eyes.

"I know that, dumbass! I meant its okay if you wanna go back and _stay_, Dean." he bites out hotly. And then he stiffens, realizing what he just said. This time, Dean's eyes widen.

Silence fills the air. Sam waits for Dean to say something, heart pounding. Obviously he doesn't mean what he just said. It's not okay for him if Dean leaves. But this isn't about him. This is about Dean. If Dean wants to go, then Sam can accept that. If Dean wants to go, he'll cut Dean loose.

No matter how much it'll hurt.

"…stay? What do you mean stay?" Dean asks quietly. Sam swallows.

There's no going back now.

"Stay as in…permanent. As in you stop hunting and you know, live a normal life." Sam says softly. "At least, as normal as you can be, Dean," he jokes weakly. But Dean doesn't laugh. He doesn't even smile. Instead, he stares at Sam as if he's never seen him before.

"Okay, what the hell is going on inside your head, Sam?" Dean asks lowly, eyes hard.

Sam bristles. 'What? Nothing, I'm just saying. If you wanna go back, it's-" Deans cuts him off before he could finish. He leans towards Sam, pinning him with his gaze. Sam automatically leans away, his back moving behind until it suddenly hits the chair.

"Oh no, don't give me that bullshit. You don't just out of the blue say something like that, Sam. No, I know you. You've thought about this." Dean shakes his head. "Forget hunting? What the hell? And unless you've forgotten, I've tried that whole apple pie life thing and it didn't work out, remember?"

"Because you were all hung up over my death! And then I came back- I mean, soulless me pulled you away from them." Sam argues, voice rising. "But I'm okay now, Dean, you got me my soul back and I'm _fine_. You can go. There's nothing holding you back now."

"Wha- holding me back?" Dean repeats incredulously. He's openly gaping at Sam now. "Okay, lets just back up for a minute." Dean raises a hand. "You're giving me the green card to leave, to go back to Lisa because what, since you got your soul back that means you're fine and dandy and my job's done?" he breathes out.

"Well, -"

"Is this what's its all about?" Dean interrupts, gesturing around them. "Is this why you're sitting here? You think I'm gonna leave?" Suddenly, his face goes completely blank.

"Sam," he says slowly, jaws clenching, "Do..do you _want_ me to leave?"

Sam can feel his eyes widen at his brother's question and before he can think about it, he reaches out and smacks his brother's arm hard. "No! Of course not! How could you even think that?" he exclaims.

Dean hisses out in pain and scowls. "Well, what the hell am I suppose to think?" he glares at Sam, rubbing his arm. "You're not exactly making much sense now with all this I can leave crap. I mean, where the hell is this coming from? You -"

"You're miserable, Dean!" Sam nearly shouts and Dean silences. "I saw you. I saw how upset you were, still are." he continues, looking determinedly down at his lap, fingers playing. "While you were talking about them, you had this look in your eyes, wistful and…sad. I know you regret leaving them behind but don't you get it?" he implores, softer this time, looking beseechingly at Dean. "You don't have to leave them behind. You can go back to them. You don't have to stay here. With me."

There. He'd said his fill.

Silence fills the room again. Sam looks down, waiting for Dean to say something. Suddenly, he can't seem to face Dean anymore.

"You have issues, man." Dean sighs heavily.

Sam snorts.

_Uh, yeah._

He hears Dean clear his throat. "Okay," he starts. "It's obvious that you're not gonna let this go. You probably have this whole speech inside your head about how you don't deserve me and I'll be happier with you far away since you're nothing but a screw up and blah blah blah, right?"

Sam flushes as Dean's all too knowing gaze lands on him. "Yeah, I thought so."

"Alright, listen up. Hey, hey Sam, look at me," A hand grips Sam's chin and he finds himself staring into his brother's eyes. "Look at me. _Listen to me_. Because I'm only gonna say this once. I'm _not_ going to leave you, okay? I don't _want_ to leave. I want to stay here with my bitchy little brother and I want to hunt things. I want to save people even though the pay sucks and we have to stay in crappy motels and we don't get even thanks sometimes. But that's okay, _it's okay_, because it means I get to look out for you and make sure first hand that nothing happens to you."

Sam shakes his head, ignoring the hope that's starting to rise in him and clenches his eyes shut. "I don't want you to feel-" he whispers.

"Forced?" Dean cuts in. "Obligated to take care of you? Sammy, I'm _choosing_ to stay. It's my choice. You're not forcing me to do anything I don't want. If I wanted to, I'd have bailed since that night you got your soul back. But I didn't. Because I _don't want_ to." he continues, voice firm.

Sam wants so hard to believe Dean, he does. But there's something else nagging in the back of his mind. He opens his eyes to and searches into his brother's eyes for any hints of lies but all he sees is honesty. All he sees is love.

He slowly relaxes and he feels Dean do the same, the hand gripping him loosening up, but still there. Dean shifts his body so that instead of having to turn his head sideways, his whole body is facing Sam. The hand on his face moves until it's gently curved over Sam's neck, thumb on Sam's cheek.

Sam bites his lips. "What about Lisa? Ben?"

Dean frowns. "What about them?"

Sam lets out a huff. Has Dean already forgotten the whole point of this conversation? Then he notices the spark of mischief in his eyes, the tell tale twitch of Dean's mouth.

He glares at Dean. "Dean."

"Sorry, man. Couldn't resist." he chuckles before he sobers up again. "Geez, you're like a dog with a bone. Then again, you do have the puppy dog eyes to go with it."

Sam pushes against the hand on his neck. "Stop trying to change the subject. Are you gonna be okay? Having to leave them? I mean, you were really upset, don't even try to deny it. I can see right through you."

His brother rolls his eyes. "Of course I'm gonna be okay." he says, giving Sam a 'duh' look. Then Dean takes a deep breath. His eyes darts down quickly before fixing on Sam again. He's quiet for awhile and Sam just lets him be, patient.

"Yeah, it sucks that I had to leave, especially in that way. And yeah, I'm upset. But I think I have the right to be. I mean, I lived with them for a year. They mean a lot to me." Sam merely nods at his brother's admission, figuring that's as far as Dean will allow.

So he's completely surprised when the Dean's hand tightens and he's pulled forward till he's close enough to Dean's face that he can the see the specks of gold in his eyes.

"But there's something I need you to understand, Sam." Dean looks completely serious, mouth set in a straight line. "They mean a lot to me. But they're not _you_." He says fiercely, shaking Sam slightly. "Do you get that? They're not you. They don't even come close. So enough of this shit, Sam. Enough of trying to make yourself less than what you are. I'm not going anywhere. As long as you're here with me, safe and sound, then I've got all I need. I'm happy. You're always going to come first to me. That's just the way it is. That's the way it's always been and I seriously doubt that's ever gonna change. So get over yourself and deal with it." Dean finishes, panting slightly by the end of his tirade. There's a shine in his eyes but when he blinks, it's gone.

Sam blinks and blinks again. _I get it, I get it now. _

His mouth feels dry. There's a burning inside his eyes that he determinedly pushes back. Still, he can't ignore the sudden and complete warmth that seems to envelop him.

Dean doesn't seem to notice anything amiss. He peers into Sam's eyes, seeming concerned at the way Sam's clamming up. "Sammy….you alive in there?" he asks hesitantly.

Sam clears his throat and tries valiantly to blink away the tears that start to form. Dean will never let him live it down if he starts blubbering like an idiot. "Uh..yeah." he nearly winces at how hoarse he sounds.

"We good?"

"Yeah, we're good."

"No more self- depreting crap?"

Sam can't help the quirk of his mouth. "Self-_deprecating_, Dean." he teases, grinning slightly when Dean rolls his eyes and kicks him lightly. "And no, no more of that."

Dean gives him a look that says 'yeah right'. Sam allows himself to grin wider as he gazes back at his brother innocently.

Finally, Dean just shakes his head. "Bitch." he says. He sounds almost…fond.

"Jerk." Sam shoots back without missing a beat.

"Seriously, Sam, we cool? You need anything else?"

Sam starts to say no but then he stops, pondering. Then slowly, he smirks. He quickly looks down. "Anything?" he asks, making sure to soften his voice in a way he knows makes him sound small. This is too good of an opportunity to miss.

"Yeah, man."

Slowly, deliberately, he raises his eyes and silently looks at Dean. He juts his lip out, just slightly.

Dean looks at him quizzically before his eyes widen. "Aw, come on, dude! Seriously?" he complains though the way his mouth twitch totally belies his words.

Sam widens his eyes just a bit and cocks his head slightly to one side.

Dean groans out loud. "You little bitch."

Dean pulls him in, his hand sliding up to the back of his neck while the other goes around his back. Sam follows him easily, his own hands clutching at Dean's back.

He hides himself in the curve of Dean's neck and just breathes in his brother's scent.

_Home_, he thinks.

"There, you happy now, princess?" he hears Dean say, though there's no heat in his words. Even as he's muttering under his breath about evil puppy dog eyes, Dean's arms tighten around him, shifting him even closer, grip on Sam firm and sure, not letting go.

Sam just closes his eyes and allows himself to cling to his brother. Something in his chest loosens and for the first time in quite a while, he's breathing again.

END


End file.
